Melody of a Kiss
by xwLic
Summary: They fit together. They fought like warriors and kissed like lovers. They needed each other. They loved. Zutara drabbles. Please read them. T for... probably nots.
1. Leave me stardust to remember you by

**A/N: Everlasting Chemisty… thanks. I have officially dedicated these drabbles to you. They are, like yours, philosophical. Also, they are song-based. It is Zutara, though names may or may not be mentioned in them.**

_If you be my star, I'll be your sky._

_You can hide underneath me and come out at night._

_When I turn yet black and you show off your light,_

_I live to let you shine._

_I live to let you shine._

_But you can sky-rocket away from me,_

_And never come back if you find another galaxy_

_Far from here where there's more room to fly_

_Just leave me your stardust to remember you by._

_If you be my boat, I'll be your sea._

_A depth of pure blue just to prove curiousity,_

_Ebbing, and flowing, and pushed by a breeze._

_I live to make you free._

_I live to make you free._

_But you can set sail to the west if you want to._

_And pass the horizon till I can't even see you._

_Far from here, where the beaches are wide._

_Just leave me your wake to remember you by._

_If you be my star, I'll be your sky._

_You can hide underneath me and come out at night._

_When I turn jet black and you show off your light,_

_I live to let you shine._

_I live to let you shine._

_But you can sky-rocket away from me,_

_And never come back if you find another galaxy_

_Far from here where there's more room to fly_

_Just leave me your stardust to remember you by._

_Stardust to remember you by._

_Boats and Birds, Black Rain_

He would do anything to forget the feeling of those soft, midnight lips brushing against his scar. He would slit his throat and pour his blood out if it would slow his erratic heartbeat. But he couldn't. She was so beautiful, so perfect. She shone brighter than the moon and the stars every night, and in the day she flew higher than the birds. Her eyes caressed him, and her fingers tips laughed over every inch of his face. He wasn't good enough for her. It had to end. But he couldn't stop it. She was only more beautiful when she was with him. Everyone could see it. She shone for him. She flew for him. She breathed for him. Her body flew free, along with her winged heart. He could sit quietly and watch, and that would cause her beauty to grow still. But she loved him. Her kisses drew him closer, like a leash, and her scent filled his ears with a sweet song, a sad song. She was more alive, and she loved his so much… he didn't want her. He needed her. He breathed her, and she breathed him.

Their hands fit together perfectly, his large, rough, hot hand and her small, smooth, cold one. They belonged together. Their bodies molded together. The should hate each other. They should've countered each other. He should be invisible—he shouldn't exist. But she made him feel worthy of life. He made him secretly enjoy life. Together, they shone. He was the night and she was the stars. He was the earth and she the flower. She was beautiful, but only because he made her beautiful.

He would do anything to forget the feeling of those soft, midnight lips brushing against his scar. He would slit his throat and pour his blood out if it would slow his erratic heartbeat. Or so he once told himself. But it all changed.

"I will die for you if I must, Katara," he whispered, hugging her protectively. She had simply shaken her head and stepped away.

"I know that you will. But Zuko, I don't want you to die for me. You must live for me too, Zuko. You must live for me."


	2. I wwant to hate you like I hate myself

**A/N So, guess who doesn't want to write all of the song lyrics down? That's right, Isabel! –cough- I mean… xwlic doesn't… -cough-**

**Anyway, I'm gonna write the chorus as that's the only part I need anyway.**

_I wish that I was as invisible as you make me feel.  
_

_I wish that I was as invisible as you make me feel.  
_

_Whoa  
_

_I want to hate you half as much and as I hate myself_

_The Pros and Cons of Breathing, Fall Out Boy_

He had been alone when he joined them. I had watched, knowing that he, like all humans, could not feel my breath as I looked down their necks. In the day, they couldn't see me at all. But I watched them.

He had been alone. The old, wrinkled man he had traveled with had passed on to become something else. I do not see why humans are so sad when another leaves. It will come back as something else. Do they not understand? The leaving ones are finally being relieved of the burden of living, of surviving.

Secretly I believe that the one I watched so closely will never die. His will to live is too strong; his inner flame too bright. I developed a sort of affection for him, the way a queen develops an affection for a particularly independent child-servant.

At night, when I was the most alive, when the humans even could see me, he watched her. The girl. The girl who always smiled and stared at the Avatar, the one who would do anything to protect him. He wished that he was the Avatar at times like those, secretly, inside himself. She made him feel so… imperceptible. Like he wasn't there. He wanted to hat her for that. He wanted to hate her so badly, hate her for being calm and together always, hate her for being strong, hate her for not caring that his uncle—the one person who had always cared—was gone. But somehow, he couldn't. He wanted to want her to die, to be his enemy, but he couldn't. It was his fate to do that, to fight it. It was his fate to hate her.

Sometimes, there are those strong-willed humans that fight fate. And win. He fought fate without even trying. And he hated himself. Slowly a fire at away his soul. The girl slowly began to see him for who he was. And then, when he finally trusted her, when the wanting to hate her only came at times, he asked her the question I had been dreading him to ask. I did not want to put my child in the position of answering, but she, too, was strong. She had fought fate. She would fight. She would win. After all, she was my daughter. Anyhow.

"Would… would you… heal it?" he asked my daughter, my beautiful fighter. She had simply looked at him—she did things simply, to the point. I admired my daughter for this.

"Zuko… I can't. Sure, it would go away. But it is not on your face that that scar lives, Zuko. It ahs scarred your heart. If I healed that scar, it would be like putting your past to a flame and letting it disappear."

"I do not want my past! I don't want it!" My daughter had slapped him, glowing with rage and pity under my silver light.

"Do not deny your past. Your past makes you who you are. You continue to fight it, to hate yourself for it. You must let it go, Zuko. But you must hold it close as well. Your past… it _is_ you. Without that past, you wouldn't be sitting here today, learning to hate yourself a little bit less. Learning to trust yourself."

"But…" The boy had begun to argue, but had stopped, stunned. He had always thought that she protected him because he was teaching the Avatar.

Her lips sung his own lips.

"It will be all right," my daughter whispered.

I smiled and looked away. The children of the sun are too cocky and stubborn. My children were always best—beautiful, bright, strong, but accepting, for I had melted with water. The children of the moon are always best. I am, after all, a forgiving mother.


	3. The broken world we chose

**A/N Well, this goes to Ruth, who's fanfiction name is unknown to me… because she gave me this amazing and wonderful idea. She knows it… surprise to you!**

_in this desert land  
i know some rain must fall  
see where we began  
we've come so far  
on this harbor shore  
we hear the ocean call  
in our minds at war  
we have so far to go_

shine with all the untold  
hold the light given unto you  
find the love to unfold  
in this broken world we choose

in unending storms  
we search for space to breathe  
how our hearts are worn  
we've come so far  
in this desert  
how we blossom and we cease  
tell your story now  
we have so much to know

_vienna teng, shine_

I slept at night. I slept deeply and I slept hard from putting so much of myself forth in the day. I do not remember a time when I failed myself, or when I showed up too early or too late. I was bright and I was good, and I was strong.

He shone as bright as ever, just like me. He learned, and he survived. I watched him. I watched how far he went. How, even before she had even let herself look at him, she had helped him. But mostly, he helped himself. He probably would've gotten along without her, but it would've taken longer. Anyway. I watched him struggle to cross a dry, barren place of gray. I watched him as it slowly dawned on him that he was still breathing. That he was choking.

I watched him as he found that place where he could be free.

Humans… they have such short lives. Lives that blossom and wilt all at once, like a match lit in a storm. Some realize this and give up. Some don't and naively keep trying. And sometimes, there are those rare ones who realize how small, unimportant, and flitting that they really are, yet try and struggle to make the best of it. He had been middle one until the day when he realized that speaking wasn't allowed. He had been the second one until the day that he found something worth living for.

Her. The daughter of my rival, my mirror. Mirrors always did reflect the opposites.

She always seemed to think that her children were the best, the most courageous, and the strongest. Ha. Truly, my children are the best, for even if they shine their brightest and their truest and their best in my glowing warmth, and they sleep through her silver beauty.

My children—even I must admit—had flaws, though. They were stubborn. They had tempers like the flames that burned so strongly inside of them that they burned outside, too. They needed that soft, silver touch, like the call of the sea, to calm them. The moon's children were steady and soft and easy, and they contrasted my bright and beautiful children like I did the moon. But. My children truly are better.

I watched as she healed his heart, living up to even her mother. I watched as she showed him that he was not worthless, that he was not somehow less because his father did not love him the way a father should.

Unlike the mother of the watergirl, I make it known that I am watching. This is a way of making myself invisible—we all have our ways.

They were right for each other. She made my son better, for no matter what the moon may say…

The sun truly is the brightest, strongest parent a child can have.

**A/N Sorry if this isn't as good as my others… I thought it would be a cool idea… it is, actually. But I think I did better with the moon… but I hope you like it anyway! And isn't that all that anyone can really do? Hope that they made other people happy, because they tried?**


	4. Hopelessly Hopeful

**A/N So, I know that this is a Zutara. And you'll see the Zutara here, but you've gotta read all the way through. So. Also, there is no song here. It is longer, and cast in a different tone that the others. It is a piece on love, fate, and being so hopelessly hopeful that it hurts you.**

I sat quietly, waiting for her to come and sit with me. I cast a searching net inside myself and drew breath out with it, unsteady, uneven breath, breath to match my heart. I looked at my hands; I played with my hands, trying to calm myself. I would tell her. I was young, yes, but I was also old. I needed to tell her this before… before anything could happen. I could die tomorrow, or the next day, or even today. I was so good at covering it up with my attitude, but sometimes it slipped. I couldn't hold onto my mask forever—my hands were growing sweaty.

She came, her blue eyes calm and distant, as if trying to find the sea that they belonged to, or trying to become the moon that gave her power. Everything I had done to calm myself slipped away. She was _so beautiful_. Katara smiled warmly at me, speeding my pulse even more.

"Are you okay, Aang?" Katara asked, becoming a little concerned. I looked up at her, my gray eyes serious. Katara sat with me on the fallen log.

"I… I need to talk to you, Katara. There is something I have to tell you." My voice faltered, and I couldn't look at her, but I was trying as hard as I was allowed to try.

"What is it? You can tell me, Aang," her soft, moonlit voice coaxed, like a raindrop to a burning cheek. My burning cheek.

"I…" I took a deep breath. "Katara, I love you." Her eyes, so gentle and soft, stared at me, widened in surprise. She knew I didn't mean like a sister. She could tell. She knew me as well as I knew the wind, or as well as she knew the water. She took a deep, steadying breath as well, looking down. _This is it_, some hopelessly hopeful part of me thought, _She loves you_.

"Aang… I… I can't love you," she whispered, her voice choked with tears. Sadness and bewilderment tangled themselves on my face.

"If it's because I'm the Avatar, and people could use you against me, then—"

"That's not it, Aang!" she cried, snapping her head up, tears streaking down her face. "I'm sorry, but I can't. My heart is… it is somewhere else." Her voice dropped to a murmur, and her eyes got far away again. I felt excruciating, tearing pain. I tried to think of who could've stolen her heart from me, I who had loved her so hard, I who had wanted nothing more than that smile… until now. Who? Could it still lie with Jet, the traitor? I didn't know.

"Wh-who?" I asked, beginning to feel numb.

"Aang… please don't…" Katara pleaded.

"_Who?_" I demanded. Katara sobbed a little, sniffing. Somewhere inside of me, I felt guilt for causing this hurt. But I needed to know this. "I need to know, Katara," I said, softening my tone. She nodded.

"B-but… don't get mad, okay?" she begged, her eyes wide and innocent, like a child, like my mask. Like love.

"I promise, Katara. Just tell me who."

"It's… Zuko." As Katara said this, her voice gained a steadiness and strength that hadn't been there. This hit me hard, though, piercing me through the heart like a blade. How could she love him? He was cold, angry, and dark. He lived for revenge, and he lived to get _him_—or, he had until he had joined them. But he was… he was _bad_. How could someone like her love him? I turned to ask her, but she had all ready gone.

That night, I sat by the campfire, glad of it's warmth but hating who it belonged to. I looked up to glare at Zuko, only to see something strange. His eyes were soft, a small smile floating on his lips. I followed his gaze, knowing where it would land. Katara.

Zuko stood, walking over to help her with whatever she was doing, trying to paint a scowl on his lips. It didn't work. He touched her back gently, letting her know that he was there, and her face lit up.

It hurt me so badly. I blinked tears away. She had never been like that with me. She had protected me and comforted me, but her face didn't like up upon seeing mine. She didn't laugh like she was doing now. How could she love such a cruel beast?

But maybe she brought him from behind his face, let him drop it for a while and dry his sweaty hands. I watched the gentle, timid way he touched her and smiled at her. He was a different person without that mask.

But I guess that is what happens when love sweeps you away. It lets someone remove that mask and rest yourself.

From that moment, I vowed to close my heart. I was the Avatar. Love didn't want me; fate was cruel.

But a small, warm spot grew in me every time I saw that shining smile. Maybe I could find someone.

I was hopelessly hopeful. Maybe, I could one day think that word again. _Love_.


End file.
